In a great scene in an otherwise forgettable Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu, Kareena Kapoor explains to Imran Khan the advantages of being 'average.' Average, she says, is calm; average is predictable; average is easy to live with. I have the advantage that I was once a very mediocre student; I used to work quite hard but didn't perform that well. Am I happier today than I was then? Professional and academic successes have pushed me to new shores, but are these shores that I am happier on? It is difficult to find an answer, of course, because my 'average' years also coincided with my childhood and, ceteris paribus, childhood is a happier period of one's life. Maybe I can turn around the question and locate the sources of unhappiness in my present situation and link it to the lack of 'averageness.'
I dislike the fact that I have no 'home' to return to; that my 'home' is a room that only I live in. I miss coming back to a family; a place where doors didn't divide the home into personal fiefdoms. I miss having a balcony overlooking the locality, where I could sit and ruminate. I miss the chatter of daily existence; the boisterous kids playing cricket, the older people taking evening walks. It is, unfortunately, the lack of 'above-average' jobs in Kolkata that now prevent me from being at that place I can call home. I had to stay back in Delhi when my parents moved so I could get a better education, then had to stay in Delhi during college because that's where the best economics colleges are; had to work in Delhi because McKinsey has no Kolkata office, and then transplanted to Oxford because that's where 'upward and onward' got me.
I miss my friends. I still form friendships (maybe more numerous) but I'm not sure if I'd be able to fall and have one of those friends catch me in free fall and make me stand up. One of my biggest fears now is that I'll never be in the same city as my good ol' friends ever again - that life will become a continuous cycle of moving on and forming new friendships. A big part of 'above-averageness' in today's world is probably in moving to bigger and better places. The benefits are obvious and immediate. The costs are often more long term, and more subtle. Am I sure that my latent loneliness isn't chipping away at whatever made me click? I don't know.
Don't get me wrong. I have the greatest appreciation for whatever opportunities I have had the fortune of having. The only thing I want to warn myself is to not get carried away in this wave of, and race for, success. I want to keep reminding myself that success is not happiness. That all costs are not internalised immediately. I want to make professional sacrifices for personal happiness; even as I sacrifice personal happiness for professional success. I want to find that spot in this world where I am at my happiest. Where I have a home, however imperfect, to return to. Where I have friends, however annoying, to engage with me. Every day.
